


Operation: Triumph

by LelianasSong



Series: Commissions [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LelianasSong/pseuds/LelianasSong
Summary: It has been ages since Sombra saw Widowmaker laugh and she is intent on making it happen again.----------Commission for @TheSoundOfThunderstorms





	Operation: Triumph

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSoundOfThunderstorms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoundOfThunderstorms/gifts).



> A special thank you to Heather for commissioning me and getting me to write some of that sweet Spiderbyte content! I mean, you've probably already checked out her work, but if you haven't, then what are you waiting for? Get to it! ;) <3

There weren’t many times that Sombra could remember seeing Widowmaker smile. She could probably count each time on the fingers of one hand, making each time as precious as the last. It wasn’t really a conscious thing that she’d decided upon, it had just sort of crept up on her. She had seen the sniper smiling to the soft classical music she had once caught her playing, that awe at seeing the usually impassive face, with her lips curling up and a warmth almost meeting her eyes. A soft flutter that she dare not even name had settled within her chest.

A simple challenge was enough of a name, Sombra thought, as she watched Widowmaker on the other side of the room, tending meticulously to her rifle as they wasted time in the Athens safehouse. Her expression was focused on the task before her and clearly not on the words that were being shared between Akande, Gabe and Moira. They were sat around the table, conducting a meeting that apparently neither her nor Widowmaker were being forced to listen to, even though she supposed they really should. 

Casually, Sombra flicked open her holoscreens, pretending to be researching the ruins they had spent all night scoping out and trying to find some secret that not even she could really bring herself to care about right now. Instead, she opened up a simple document, creating a list of ideas, all of which were specifically designed to see if she could be the reason for one of those rare smiles on Widow’s face. It was just an experiment, she told herself, a challenge that would surely provide some form of entertainment for whenever she found herself bored and in need of something to do.

Glancing over, Sombra quirked her head to the side, trying to figure out where the best place to start was. Perhaps it would be best to start in low and to build her way up to grander attempts. There was no point in showing all of her cards so early on in the game, lulling Widow into a false sense of security seemed to be the best plan. Maybe then the sniper wouldn’t see it coming.

“Hey araña, how do spiders communicate?” Sombra asked, looking up from her screens with a giant grin on her face.

“No.”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“No, I’m busy.”

“‘I do not know, Sombra, how do spiders communicate?’” Sombra said, trying to put on the fakest and heaviest french accent that she possible could.

Widowmaker looked up at her then, frowning slightly before shaking her head. Her amber eyes glanced towards the table where Reyes seemed to be the only one who had noticed the exchange going on, on the floor. Sighing, she looked back at Sombra, whose smile still had not yet fallen from her face.

“Finish the joke then.”

“They communicate through the world wide web!”

A moment passed as Widowmaker blinked, allowing silence to stretch like a gulf between them.

“That delivery was terrible. I have seen better comedy from Reyes,” Widowmaker said, returning her eyes back down to the rifle in her hands. “I believe I heard that joke when I was a child.”

“Well, maybe next time you won’t ruin the delivery and you might actually get a kick out of it.”

“I doubt it.”

“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”

“Tais-toi, Sombra. I am trying to concentrate.”

With that, Widowmaker stood up, collecting the supplies she had been using to clean her rifle from the floor and walked into the quietness of the bedroom. She seemed to ignore the way the others looked up from their meeting, watching as she exited the room.

“Lacroix is not unwell, I hope,” Moira spoke, watching her closely as the door shut behind her, her voice filled with the type of clinical concern that always made Sombra feel uneasy.

“Nah, she just can’t handle my superior jokes right now. She’ll be fine.”

“Would you care to grace us with your presence then, Sombra? We have work to do,” Reyes spoke, gesturing with his hand to one of the empty spaces around the table.

“Sure, sure, I’m coming Gabe.”

As Sombra sat down, she opened her holoscreens again, pretending to listen intently to what the others were saying. She continued her allocated research of the Greek ruins, looking for any trace of activity from Overwatch in the area, all the while looking pointedly at the list she had made mere minutes before. Shitty spider puns were the lowest on the list, a certain failure that was now crossed off.

Time would tell whether the other suggestions would be quite so spectacularly unsuccessful. 

***

Another day and another purposefully ruined mission. Sombra ran alongside Widowmaker as they made their escape from the building they had been watching from. in pursuit by the guards that had been handily tipped off by a silent alarm. It was easier to get away with things when she was sat next to Widowmaker, who had begun to pointedly ignore anything off mission that she might be doing beside her. If she didn’t know what it was, she wouldn’t need to lie to any of the higher ups about what exactly had gone wrong.

Still, Sombra had learnt enough to secure their escape, turning corner after corner, hoping that they could get out before the guards could find them. The other Talon agents in the building would need to fight their way out, but at least her and Widowmaker were safe, that was truly the only thing she cared about on this mission anyway, where Talon was concerned at least.

They ran and ran, not stopping until they appeared to find a grate in the floor of an underground passage. Quickly moving the grate, Sombra motioned for Widowmaker to follow her, down into the depths of the city sewage system beneath. There was a moment, where Widowmaker gave her an exasperated and disgusted look, before she finally followed down the hole, ensuring their presence in the building would once again be a secret not to be uncovered.

As soon as they had the space to breathe, Sombra doubled over, trying hard to catch her breath back. It was infuriating, as she looked at Widow, whose breaths seemed to be far less ragged and far more composed than Sombra’s, who felt as if her lungs were trying to rip her apart from the inside.

“I told you I’d find us a good place for our first date.” Sombra’s easy laughter merged into a fit of coughs, making her curse the fact they had been perched on the top floor of the building.

“Yes, this is what I always dreamed of, Sombra.”

“I knew you’d love it.”

After a few more moments of breathing, Sombra finally managed to catch her breath. Through this, she watched as Widowmaker made the necessary calls to Gabe to report on the mission status, even as her eyes never seemed to leave Sombra’s face, her lips twisting into an unreadable expression.

“Did you get what you came for?” Widowmaker asked, once her communications had been deactivated and Sombra seemed to be breathing regularly.

“Yeah, want to see?”

“No, you know I don’t care what you do.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. Think of all the webs you could weave, my favourite spider. We both know you aren’t content in Talon’s clutches.”

“I am content to stay alive.”

“Suit yourself, amiga.” Sombra winked at Widowmaker, earning her a derisive snort in response. “So, where’d you want to take our date next?”

“It is not a date unless there is wine.”

“So, if I told you that there was a bottle of wine in a drop off further down this corridor...?”

“I would not drink your vile sewer wine.”

“Pah, you French and your damn ‘wine standards’. So what about going to a bar and pretending like we aren’t going to get in trouble with Gabe for drinking on the job?”

“Hmm…”

“‘Wine bars were  _ not _ part of the plan,’” Sombra lowered her voice, trying to make herself sound as much like Gabriel as she could. “‘Fun must die.’”

A ghost of a smirk pulled up at the corners of Widowmaker’s mouth as Sombra continued, berating the idea of their little detour in her best Reaper impression. The smiles did not morph into a laugh, but Sombra knew it was progress at least. They walked on through the dark sewer as Sombra brought up a screen, looking for the best place to get out and find the blessed wine bar that she felt would be the ultimate place to turn that small smirk on Widowmaker’s face into a proper laugh.

“Come on, I’ve found a place, let’s go!”

***

An hour or so later, after Sombra had been convinced that perhaps going to a wine bar whilst they both stank of sewage was a bad idea, they both sat in the hotel room that was acting as their cover. It was not difficult to make their way back to the room without being spotted. They did however manage to bring the wine to them, as Sombra poured some more Fleurie out into Widowmaker’s glass, as they both sat on the one bed they had been sharing and looked out into the light of the city outside their window.

Sombra watched as Widowmaker’s shoulders seem to relax even more with another long sip of her red wine. The woman always looked as if she were savouring each and every sip of the liquid, whilst Sombra had to keep forcing herself not to drink it down too quickly. She really needed the damn drink, but each time she did swallow and drink far too much, Widowmaker would admonish her for it.

“That went well, I think,” Sombra laughed, crossing her legs beneath her.

“If you say so. Things will not seem that way to Talon. I doubt we’ll get much praise from them.”

“I don’t need their praise, araña.”

“No, but you do need to play their game. Do you want to end up dead, or worse?”

“What’s worse than death?” Sombra laughed, shaking her head.

“They could turn you into me…” 

Silence overtook them for a moment, as Sombra watched Widowmaker’s lips purse tightly, that ghost of a smile no longer pulling at her lips as it had been doing for most of their time alone. There was a sadness that washed over them both, an unspoken moment of recognising that perhaps Widowmaker was right about that.

Clearing her throat, Sombra shook her head, turning to face Widowmaker and the odd vulnerability that seemed to only overtake her whilst they were together and alone. If there was one thing that Sombra hated seeing, it was when Amélie appeared to shine through, not as the woman who had once been able to laugh and smile, but as the woman who had been kidnapped. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable, it was more that Sombra felt that pang of guilt and anger that she could not do anything about it.

“Fuck Talon for that, seriously,” Sombra spoke, clutching Widowmaker’s hands within her own. “And fuck that creepy daddy longlegs!”

“Pardon?”

“You know… Moira?”

“You… how long have you been calling her that?” Widowmaker asked, her eyes shining with some form of mirth that did not quite reach her lips.

“Erm, just now? Listen to me though, she’s either a daddy longlegs or something else creepy with inexplicably long limbs. Some form of cryptid maybe? That would explain why she never seems to sleep!”

“Yes and why her fingers are always so cold!”

“Right? Sometimes she feels colder than you! And what is with her claw? It’s a  _ claw _ ?”

Widowmaker laughed then, shaking her head as Sombra mimicked the claw in which Moira had formed from an experiment. It was a low and rich sound that made the smile on Sombra’s own face grow even wider. That sad vulnerability was replaced with a lightness that Sombra rarely saw on Widowmaker’s face, one that she kept thinking would have looked so at home on her before Talon had turned her into this.

“Perhaps it is Moira who should be the spider and not me?” Widowmaker spoke, taking another long sip of her wine.

“Nah, you’re still my favourite spider. But perhaps she’s more of the monster than you think you are.”

Widowmaker looked at her then, hard and long, as if trying to look through those words and seek out the intent and truth behind them. Yet all Sombra could do was let her hand reach up for a moment and caress Widowmaker’s cheek. She placed a kiss to that fading smile, her eyes twinkling with the thrill of seeing Widowmaker actually laugh for once.

“I like it when you laugh,” Sombra said, leaning into Widowmaker’s side and taking another drink.

“I… like it too.” Widowmaker cautiously wrapped an arm around Sombra’s shoulder as if she were testing the waters and her own boundaries for comfort. “...Thank you.”


End file.
